La Contessa Ch. 15

Chapter 15: Allessandro Fernasse

It's the middle of the night before La Contessa's gondola weaves its way through the torch-lit canals back to her palace. I'm exhausted, and I've only been an observer. Becky, the slave girl, must be aching all over after the attention she's received. Yet, I know from my own experience of La Contessa's domination that this extreme fatigue produces a euphoric feeling. She did well, and La Contessa is delighted with her performance, commenting on how good it is to have a girl slave who truly understands the meaning of submission. I can't wait to relate the exploits to Julia, as I usually describe the scenes La Contessa creates to her in great detail... and there's plenty to tell her about the night!

But it's a few days later when we get a chance to meet up. She comes to my room to inform me La Contessa will need me in her private sitting room later in the day. I'm ready to tell Julia about the torture of the Syrian merchant, and Il Padrino, but she's in an uncharacteristically strange mood. At the mere mention of Becky, she fires back an acerbic response.

"Yes, it's all I've heard from my mistress over the last couple of days. How perfectly submissive Becky is, how well she took her punishment, how lovely she is. I'm sick of hearing about her. And did you enjoy fucking her, Roberto?"

I pause to let the last comment sink in. Surely it must be a misunderstanding?

"But Julia, I only assisted La Contessa. I never joined in any of the play, and I never fucked Becky."

"That's not what La Contessa says. She's described in graphic detail how she let you take Becky whilst she was tied onto the rack, and the pleasure you got from it."

I'm confused now, and I can only think La Contessa is playing a game with Julia.

"I promise you, Julia. I didn't fuck the girl. Your mistress is messing with you. You've said yourself how manipulative she can be."

This remark causes her to reflect and temper her rage.

"Well, I don't know what to think," she mumbles.

"I didn't, but besides," I add, "if mistress ordered me to fuck her, I would have. You know that, Julia, it's what I'm here for. I'd have carried out her instructions to the letter. You explained this from the start."

"Yes, yes. I know, you're right Roberto. It's just that... since she's come to the palazzo all I hear about from La Contessa is her slave girl. She's so beautiful, she's so lovely... she's never called me these things in all my years of service. Do you think Becky's so pretty?"

I grasp Julia by the shoulders. I choose my words carefully.

"Yes, she may be Julia. I'd be lying if I said she wasn't attractive. But that's not the point. She's not as beautiful as you Julia and, believe me, I feel nothing for her. She's La Contessa's slave girl. Nothing more. And do you really expect La Contessa to praise you all the time. After all, Julia, you're her maid."

As soon as the words spill out, I know I've said the wrong thing. I see tears welling up in her eyes.

"I'm only a maid am I? You think that's all I am to her?"

Shit. I don't know how to respond. The honest answer, harsh as it may be, is yes. Whatever rapport they may have built up over the years, Julia's role will always be to serve La Contessa. What else can I say? I've seen the intimacy of the relationship she has with her mistress at first hand, but it's still one of mistress and servant... what more can Julia expect from it? What strikes me about this exchange is how jealous Julia is of Becky. Her presence seems to have exposed Julia's doubts... about her relationship with La Contessa, about me, and about her place in the household. I take her into my arms and console her.

"I can't guess why La Contessa wants to give the impression there might be something between me and Becky, but I promise you it's not true. I love you, Julia. Becky means nothing to me. I want you and wish you had time to stay with me now so we can make love."

I pull out a handkerchief and gently wipe the tears from Julia's eyes.

"Yes, I know you're right. I know my mistress plays mind games with people, but she's never done it with me before, not in such a hurtful way. It's upset me that she would treat me that way."

"Well, I know it's no consolation, but she treats everybody else the same," I say trying to make light of it. "Perhaps you shouldn't take it too much to heart, Julia."

"Anyway, I've got to be going. We'll meet up as soon as I can. And don't forget, madam's sitting room at 4pm. And naked, naturally!"

I have a few domestic chores to complete and the rest of the day goes quickly until I have to make my rendezvous with La Contessa. I knock on the door, and she invites me to enter.

I take in the scene before me. Given my recent conversation, the first thing to strike me is the presence of both Julia and Becky, the latter standing with her arms behind her back next to the chair where La Contessa sits. She's dressed plainly and modestly in a simple knee length cotton chemise buttoned all the way down the front with a leather belt around her waist. Well, I say modestly. You can see the outline of her nipples protruding from the material. She looks every bit the obedient submissive. She does, it must be said, look lovely. With each week serving at the palazzo she looks more and more ravishing. Her hair, a natural and striking blonde, so distinctive to see in Venice, is thick and rich. She has put on a bit of weight since being rescued from the hands of the Syrian merchant, but it's no bad thing as it's enhanced the voluptuousness of her curves. Julia, looking pensive, is serving La Contessa and her guest coffee from a silver pot engraved with naked nymphs.

La Contessa gestures for me to take up a position at the opposite side of her from Becky.

She's dressed formally, in her wig, a rich embroidered gown, and as much make-up as I've seen her wear. She's dressed to impress, and when I see her guest, I understand why. His gown is grand, its hood lined with ermine. But it's the cane, capped with a silver winged lion, which provides the vital clue for me. Nobody would openly carry such an iconic symbol if they were not part of Venice's ruling elite. The ensuing conversation confirms my suspicions.

"May I speak frankly to you, Contessa?"

"Yes, these are my servants. I trust them not to allow any report of our conversation to go beyond this room. They know the severity of the punishment if they do."

"This is a delicate matter, Contessa. As you know the trade through Venice of late has declined, and the Doge and Council of Ten are, let me be frank, in straightened circumstances."

"Allessandro Fernasse, I'm perfectly aware the interest on my loans to the Doge is due for payment in a matter of days. No doubt you've been sent here to crawl on behalf of the Council of Ten to renegotiate the interest payments. And, knowing the perverse lecher you are, I don't doubt you'd also like to avail yourself of the entertainments I offer. You will see I have acquired a new slave and slave girl since you were last here. The girl is especially delicious don't you think... and very willing."

The corpulent representative of the Council of Ten squirms uncomfortably in his seat, sweat dripping from his forehead. I'm intrigued by this exchange. It explains a lot. Venice is a place where money rules. This must be the hold La Contessa has over the ruling elite of the city, making her untouchable in whatever she does.

"Yes, Contessa, on behalf of the Council I'm here to ask for a rescheduling of our debts."

La Contessa raises an eyebrow, "Ask? You mean beg, surely."

"Well, to discuss what mutually beneficial arrangements we might come to," splutters Fernasse.

"Ha! You mean beg. And yes, I will make you beg! Get out of the chair onto your knees and crawl towards me."

"But, Contessa, is it your intention to humiliate me?"

"Yes, indeed it is. Do as I say and get on your knees or there will be no negotiation. I will simply insist on the repayment of my loan. You know the consequences."

Offered no alternative, Fernasse heaves his body out of the chair and gets down on his knees. He crawls the short distance to where La Contessa sits, her hand outstretched ready for him. He takes it in his hand and kisses it. There is a pause.

"Yes?" prompts La Contessa.

"Contessa, I beg you on behalf of the Doge and the Council of Ten to extend the period of your loan to the city for six months. We are expecting a fleet of merchant ships to arrive from the Far East by then with goods we can trade. I beg you to grant us this favour."

"That's better. And tell the Doge, next time he wants to reschedule his debts, he must come himself, and I will make him get down on his knees and crawl. I am minded to agree to an extension but I do have further conditions; a few trifles to satisfy my whims."

"Yes, Contessa; let me know what they are. I'm confident we will be able to accommodate them," said Fernasse, still on his knees.

"The first stipulation is that, on the final day of Carnevale, I will expect my barge to lead the procession along the Grand Canal, and for the ball to be held in my palazzo."

"Why yes, Contessa, we would be honoured for you to host the Carnevale's masked ball," he says, relieved at the relative modesty of the request.

"Then there is the question of the travelling theatre troupe, the Gelossi. Their plays are lewd, and they have a rather good line in political satire too. They amuse me, and it would give me great pleasure to see their work performed in Venice. It appears they are having difficulties obtaining a licence. I trust this is a matter you can smooth over for them."

"Well, possibly Contessa." Fernasse replies with obvious discomfort. "Though the Doge may object to this stipulation as this theatre troupe are known for their bitter attacks on him and the Council of Ten. Their satire ferments discontent in the city."

La Contessa's eyes flash with anger. She leans down and lifts Fernasse's chin up with her finger so she can stare, unflinching, into his eyes. He tries to avert her gaze, but she grips his chin in her hand.

"So, Allessandro, are you not entrusted to negotiate on the Doge's behalf?"

"Yes, madam."

"Is it not clear to you what will happen if you do not accede? It amuses me that this theatre troupe ridicules the rulers of Venice, and I will have my way. I am sure you understand."

"Yes, Contessa."

"So, I can take it the matter is settled then."

"Yes, Contessa."

"There is one last tiny thing," she says releasing his face from her grip.

Fernasse's body slumps; what next, he must be thinking.

"I am holding a piece of theatre, a puppet show, and it would please me if the Council of Ten attend. I am sure they will find it amusing."

"Yes, we would be honoured to attend such an entertainment."

"In particular, I want the Archbishop to attend."

"The Archbishop? Can I ask the nature of this puppet show? Will it be of sexually perverse nature?"

La Contessa waves her hand, "I have a reputation to maintain Allessandro."

"You know only too well how many of us enjoy Contessa's soirees, but the Archbishop is very pious... and may be offended at the activities on display."

"Yes indeed, pious... and a hypocrite. Does the church not benefit from the generosity of my loans?"

"Yes, madam, of course it does."

"Then it should be an easy matter for you to convince the Archbishop it is in his, and the city's, interests to indulge my whims, should it not?"

"Yes Contessa, I'm sure I can persuade him to attend."

"Excellent. So, our business is concluded then. I will have my procurator draw up the agreement to extend the period of interest on my loan."

She holds her hand out, and the deal is sealed with a kiss.

Allessandro Fernasse is effusive in his thanks, "Thank you, Contessa. We will forever be indebted to you for your fair mindedness and generosity to us."

I'm fascinated by this exchange. It explains the power La Contessa holds over the rulers of Venice. I can't help but smile inwardly at the manner in which my mistress controlled the meeting. She played with him, humiliated him, and manipulated him. Her conditions are designed to show off her prestige and influence whilst insulting the Doge and the ruling elite. I gaze on in admiration at the domineering qualities displayed by my mistress in the exchange.

"So, now our business is concluded, I expect you want to avail yourself of some sexual pleasure whilst you are here."

"Yes, madam, you know how much enjoyment I derive from your entertainments."

Now he has concluded the business part of the meeting, his eyes twinkle with expectation. I imagine that, despite the humiliations he has been subjected to, he willingly volunteered for the task, knowing he might be invited to take part in some sexual debauchery.

La Contessa invites Fernasse to take his seat with a flourish of her hand, so he gets up from his knees and nestles his vast backside into the plush velvet of the chair. His heart is racing in anticipation at what my mistress might be planning for him.

"Let me introduce you to my new slave girl," says La Contessa, taking her hand and leading her to stand in front of Fernasse. "I rescued her from the clutches of a cruel master and brought her to my palazzo. She's beautiful, is she not?"

"Yes, Contessa, she's lovely," he gasps.

I can tell he wants her. I see the lust in his eyes. I hear his little brain whirring as he sits there imagining the filthy things he could do with her.

"And she's submissive and willing... she'll do anything I ask, won't you girl?"

"Yes, mistress. I serve you in everything, mistress," Becky responds.

"Yes, of course you do, my dear. My guest looks rather hot and bothered. Perhaps you should relieve him of his clothes."

Becky steps forward in front of the chair. Fernasse breathes heavily at the presence of the girl as she stands close to him, drawing in her exotic scent as she divests him of his fur-lined gown. Becky passes it to Julia, who takes the robe nervously, folds it up, and places it carefully on a table. She's waiting anxiously to see how this play will unfold, no doubt wondering what my role in it will be.

Becky gets down onto her knees. She loosens the cords around his flabby waistline. Fernasse instinctively lifts his arse up enough to allow her to pull his breeches and knickerbockers down until they are wrapped around his ankles. His already erect penis jumps into the air as soon as it's released. Becky looks at it with curiosity, as if she's never seen a man's cock before, and runs her fingers along its taut flesh. Fernasse groans with pleasure at her touch.

Becky gets to her feet again. She stands directly in front of him, her crotch at eye level. Sensuously she unbuckles the leather belt, pulls it from her waist, and allows it to drop to the floor. Her chemise hangs loosely around her, the candlelight silhouetting her curves through the thin cotton. She unbuttons the shirt as Fernasse looks on open-mouthed. Button by button the material parts slightly to offer a glimpse of the soft lines of her cleavage. He fidgets in his seat, mesmerised by her seductive performance. More buttons are unfastened until the bush of her pubic hair is exposed, and when all the buttons are undone Becky pulls the chemise apart to reveal her sexy body. Fernasse's cock involuntarily twitches with need. He reaches his hands out to grasp her fleshy breasts in his fingers.

Before he can touch, his hands are met with the sharp snap of a flogger. He recoils in pain. He looks to one side to see La Contessa with the implement of punishment in her hands.

"No Allessandro, you are not allowed to touch."

"Please Contessa, let me take her breasts in my hands," he pleads.

"No, you can only watch. Sit there and gaze upon what you can never have. She is my special girl, my very own. Do you think I will see her fouled by your grubby, fat mitts?"

"Oh, but please Madam, let me touch her, let me have her," his voice desperate with desire.

"Since it's clear you are unable to control your lusts, I will have to take further measures to ensure my girl is not corrupted by your filthy fingers... and filthier mind."

She gestures to bring her coils of rope from a nearby table. Quickly, with an effortless speed and before Fernasse can protest or resist, La Contessa pulls his arms behind the chair and ties his wrists together. She takes his cock in her hand, wraps her fist around it and squeezes so hard I can see it brings a tear to Fernasse's eyes.

"There," she smiles, "all you can do now is enjoy the show. You can't even masturbate. You have to sit there whilst my slave girl taunts you with her sexuality."

"You are so cruel, madam," he gasps.

But secretly he's enjoying every minute of this display. There's no doubt he loves being tormented by the girl, and her mistress.

Becky removes the shirt from her shoulders. She runs her fingers along the pale flesh, squeezing the pair of orbs together. She holds the nipples of one breast between two fingers and squeezes, expelling a squeak from her lips... whether from self-inflicted pain or pleasure it's hard to say. Finally, she lets the chemise slide from her body until she stands in front of Fernasse, entirely naked.

He emits a groan of appreciation.

"She's lovely isn't she?"

"Yes madam, she is."

"And she's mine... all mine, aren't you girl?"

"Yes mistress, I submit myself to you and your desires... completely," she replies softly.

"You will never have her," La Contessa taunts, "never be allowed to touch her. You can only sit there and admire her feminine beauty. You will be tormented by what you can never have. And when you get back to your palazzo, you think you'll go straight to your chambers and wank yourself off."

"Yes, madam."

"I even permit my male slaves to play with her," she says, gesturing with a nod for me to approach Becky.

Oh, oh, I don't like the sound of this. Julia watches proceedings from across the room, silently seeing how the scene develops. I cast a glance over at her, see her eyes widen, and a face like thunder. She does not look pleased. But I have to obey of course. I've pledged my service to La Contessa. I have to carry on regardless of Julia's feelings.

La Contessa leans forward and whispers in my ear, "Touch her, run your hands over her. Kiss her. Bury your face in her crotch. Arouse her. Make her wet for me. You have your mistress's permission."

La Contessa has set me a task I can relish. Is there any way I can hold back to show my loyalty to Julia? Not really, my mistress's directions are clear. And I understand the game she's playing. I appreciate the nature of the torment she wants to inflict on Fernasse. She wants me to do the things he would love to do to the girl, but which La Contessa will never allow. I enter into the role with enthusiasm, much to Julia's disgust.

I start by standing behind her, pressing my bare flesh against hers and nuzzling her neck and shoulders as I wrap my arms around her chest and fondle her breasts. Fernasse, his wrists still tied behind the chair, is in paroxysms of frustration. I plant kisses on her sweetly scented flesh, I take her nipples in my lips, and roll my tongue around them. I have her turn around and bend over so her beautiful arse is sticking up in the air, then get down on my knees to lick her. He squirms in his chair, his cock still standing erect, desperate for release. I kiss her thighs and bury my face in her bush. I seek out her bud with my tongue.

La Contessa taunts him, "You see, even my slave can touch her, even my slave has access to her most intimate orifices. Yet you are denied."

"Please madam, release me. Let me touch her. Please, I beg you."

"No. No, she is not for you. She is my special slave girl. She is beyond your reach, and always will be. What a shame, my loveliest toy, and you will never get the chance to play with her."